


Anxious! Like your name!

by LacrimosaTheDark



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 14:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacrimosaTheDark/pseuds/LacrimosaTheDark
Summary: Virgil never told the others that he suffered from panic attacks. He always dealt with it on his own. What happens when they find out?





	1. Logic

Virgil had always kept to himself. He didn’t want to bother the others if they really did care, and if they didn’t why would he want their help anyway?

But after they began to understand and accept him, they reached out. Which is scary for someone who’s been alone for so long, hiding panic attacks and anxiety attacks.

When an attack came, Virgil usually holed himself up in his room, alone. He sat through it, however long it took, on his own.

Until Logan found him.

“Anxiety?” he said, entering the room. “I wish to speak to you about--” He cut himself off as his eyes found the other boy. Virgil was curled up on the ground by his bed, gripping at the headphones over his ears, his hood covering his messy hair, his eyes wide, frantic, and unseeing.

Logan approached slowly and knelt in front of Virgil. He tilted his head in an effort to hear if Virgil had anything playing in his headphones, but they appeared silent.

“Virgil?” he called softly. Virgil twitched, but otherwise still didn’t look at him. Logan fixed his glasses and watched carefully. “Virgil, if you can hear me, I need you to take a deep breath. Can you do that?”

Virgil took a large raspy breath, jarring his throat and triggering a coughing fit.

“Hm,” Logan murmured. He began speaking in smooth, even tones. “Now to level your breathing. I will count for you and you will breathe. One, two, three, four.” Virgil inhaled. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.” He held his breath. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” He breathed out shakily. Logan continued to count as Virgil’s breath began to slow and even out. Virgil looked up at Logan. His eyes were still hazy, but they clearly focused on Logan.

“Well done, Virgil,” Logan said. “Now, can you tell me, what are five things you can see?” Virgil’s lip quivered, as if he wanted to speak but had forgotten how. “If you are as of yet incapable of speech, do as I ask in your mind and nod when you are done. Is that a satisfactory compromise?” Virgil nodded jerkily. “Excellent. Five things you can see.”

Virgil’s eyes whipped around the room, and Logan counted for him again. After his eyes were less spazzy with panicked energy, he looked around. He saw the clock on his wall, turning backwards. He saw the MCR poster hanging on his door. He saw his laptop toppled over off to his side. He saw the dark walls of his room. He saw Logan. Slowly, he nodded.

“Good,” Logan said. “Breathe,” he urged, counting once through the exercise. “Now, four things you can feel.”

Virgil looked down. He felt his headphones over his ears. He felt his sleeves covering his wrists as he dropped his hands into his lap. He felt his bangs brushing over his forehead. After a minute of silence, he felt warm fingers dust the back of his hand. He looked at Logan in surprise, who looked back calmly and evenly, unmoving and analytical. Hesitantly, Virgil turned his hand to grasp Logan’s. Logan let him.

As Virgil nodded, Logan again led him through breathing. “What are three things that you can hear?”

Virgil gulped shakily. “M-my breathing…” he said roughly. “The wind outside...you.”

“Very good,” Logan responded, sounding relieved. This time Virgil went through the breathing without prodding. “Two things you can smell?”

Virgil took another deep breath. “The...dead flowers.” He nodded to a vase of a few shrivelled flowers. Logan took note to double check what they were and whom they were from before leaving. Likely Roman, but it could also be Patton. They seemed to light to be Virgil's choice himself. “And you,” Virgil continued. “You smell like...like old books and cleaning chemicals.”

Logan nodded. “Can you taste anything?”

Virgil hesitated. “...Blood,” he mumbled. “I...bit my lip.”

Logan glanced at Virgil’s lip, made aware of the tooth-shaped gash in it. Nothing serious, he would be fine with time and lip balm. He examined him, and Virgil’s eyes looked much clearer and his respiration was rhythmically spaced. Logan was content with this progress.

“Are you more stable now?” he asked. Virgil looked down, his bangs obstructing Logan’s view of his eyes, pushing his headphones off his ears.

“Yeah...sorry about that,” he grumbled.

“You have no need to be,” Logan said. “This is very much normal, especially for those with heightened anxiety. Seeing as you are the source and embodiment of Thomas’ heightened anxiety, it makes sense.”

Virgil squirmed uncomfortably. “Thanks…”

“It’s no trouble,” Logan assured. “Does this happen often?”

Virgil didn’t respond.

“Anxiety?”

“...”

“Virgil, how often does this occur?” Logan asked more forcefully, but still remaining calm.

Virgil huffed. “It’s no big deal. I dealt with it before.”

Logan frowned. “Well, as adept as you are at concealing your emotions, that is not healthy for you or Thomas.” He squeezed Virgil’s hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “It is not weakness or inconvenience to request assistance for something so troubling.”

Virgil curled into himself and tried to pull his hand away. Logan allowed it. He wasn’t particularly fond of physical contact, and if it was no longer comforting, it was better to release him rather than make things worse.

“It’s my problem.”

“It’s _our_ problem,” Logan insisted. “I am helping you now, and am more than willing to do so in the future.”

“But--”

“I am offering because I choose to do so, not out of some false obligation,” he said sternly. Reluctantly, Virgil sighed in seeming defeat.

“Okay...okay, fine.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked much more himself, at a more reasonable level of anxiety. “How’d you know what to do anyway?”

“Considering some of Thomas’ friends and a number of his fans experience and suffer from panic attacks, it is good information to have, in the event we should have need of it.” Logan smiled. “I’m glad my knowledge could be of use to you.”

Virgil cleared his throat, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Okay, well, I’m done, enough will the chick flick moment, Pocket Protector. I know feelings aren’t your thing.” He tugged at his sleeve. “Could you...like…”

After a moment of waiting, Logan urged, “...Yes?”

“...not tell the others?”

Logan's brow furrowed. “That seems counterintuitive. I am certain that they would--”

“No, I don’t care,” Virgil interrupted. “It’s stupid and embarrassing and I can deal with it. I don’t want to bug them; Patton will worry too much and Roman could make fun of me for it.”

Logan pause, then said thoughtfully, “I will not lie, should they for some reason inquire.” He held up his hand as Virgil opened his mouth to protest. “However, I will not openly divulge that which you wish to keep to yourself.” Virgil sighed and nodded. “Only given one condition.”

Virgil immediately tensed again and looked at Logan defensively. “What do you want?”

“Should this happen again, allow me to help you,” Logan said. “Summon me or text me should you feel an attack coming on, so I can ease your trouble. If you don’t want the others help, accept mine.” He held out his hand in offering. “Deal?”

Virgil looked at Logan’s hand and frowned. “This sounds like blackmail.” Logan only shrugged. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Fine. Deal,” he said, taking Logan’s hand.

That was far from the last time Logan helped Virgil through a panic attack.


	2. Emotions and Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton finds out.

Logan knew he was out of his depth.

Logan had taken to spending more and more time with Virgil. He wasn’t unpleasant company. Logan even found himself uneasy on occasions where he hadn’t heard from Anxiety is a while. They hung out together, and Logan would check on Virgil or text him if Virgil had been alone for an extended period. He respected Virgil’s boundaries while still keeping watch over him. He had found Virgil under duress multiple times since that first attack. Virgil had been reluctant at first, but they had fallen into a habit of Virgil texting Logan when he felt himself losing control. Be it through breathing and grounding, or through reminding Virgil of reality, Logan was able to consistently soothe Virgil to a more reasonable stress level.

But in these experiences, he had realized that these attacks left Virgil either emotionally unstable or entirely drained. And Logan was at a loss on how to better assist. Emotions were not his area. This (though he would never admit this to even himself) caused him emotional distress.

So, of course, Patton noticed.

“Hey, you doin’ alright, Teach?” he asked one day.

“Yes,” Logan hummed, focussing on the puzzle he’d set up on the livingroom table.

“Are you sure?” Patton prodded. “Cuz, y’know, I’m happy to help you through any _puzzling_ situations!”

Logan gave Patton a dead-eyed look before returning his attention back to his board.

Patton pouted. He usually at least got an exasperated groan out of Logan with his puns. And he knew something was wrong. Logan was only so focussed on a puzzled if he was trying to think through something or distract himself when he was having a hard time.

An alarming sound screeched from Logan’s phone and he grabbed it immediately. He glanced over the screen before quickly sinking out without a word.

Patton sighed. It was definitely a day for cookies. He went to the kitchen to bake some. He could just poof some up, being a figment of Thomas’ imagination and all, but he needed something to do.

Logan had been on edge lately. And busy. Very busy. He seemed to disappear at random times, and he’d spend hours researching, ignoring Patton’s urgings to spend time with him or the others.

On the plus side, Virgil had seemed more calm, just a little. Timid little grins replaced some of his snarky smirks. He didn’t really reach out like Patton wished he would, but he was more comfortable around them, and that was a good start.

Patton hummed as he put the tray of cookies into the oven. They already smelled great! He decided to scroll through Facebook while he waited, sharing a couple of Thomas’ old videos (the scamp had grown so much!) while listening to a playlist of music and humming along, the playlist consisting of The Beatles, Smash Mouth, Eminem, and random Disney tunes. By the time the scent of chocolate chips and brown sugar filled the kitchen, he felt much happier and less lonely.

As he took the cookies out of the oven to allow them to cool, he continued to let his mind wander. He thought about how he hadn’t seen Virgil all day. The poor baby must be so hungry! Maybe he’d like some cookies? Everyone likes cookies! So with that thought, he piled a plate with cookies and sunk himself to Anxiety’s room.

“Excellent job, Virgil,” Logan was saying, just before hearing the heartful side appearing behind him. Patton looked at the situation with curiosity and concern; Logan was knelt in front of Virgil, who was curled in on himself, with a hand rested on the darker boy’s shoulder. Upon noticing Patton’s presence, Virgil’s eyes widened and he began to hyperventilate. Logan quickly turned back to the distressed side and spoke to him in a careful tone, “Virgil. You are safe here. Breathe. One…”

Gradually, Virgil’s breathing slowed, keeping pace with Logan’s persistent counting until it was measured and even. When he was soothed to Logan’s satisfaction, the counting ceased. Virgil’s face was flushed and he refused to meet Patton’s worried gaze. Logan, however, did acknowledge him.

“Patton, may I inquire why you deemed it necessary to interrupt us?” 

Patton held up the plate in his hands. “I thought Virge could use some cookies!” he responded cheerily before looking down at Virgil. “You okay there, sport?”

Virgil frowned, still avoiding eye contact. “‘m fine.”

“Virgil,” Logan said slowly. “I postulate that it could be in our mutual best interests, and more so _your_ best interests to include Morality in the awareness of the situation.”

“No,” Virgil said bluntly.

“Why not?” Patton asked, pouting. “I wanna know what’s up! I’m happy to help if I can!”

Logan glanced at Patton before folding his arms stubbornly and staring down Virgil. “Our arrangement states that I will not lie if asked. Patton is asking,” he stated, fixing his frames. “And perhaps he could be of assistance in this instance.”

“He can?”

“I can?” Patton asked eagerly. “What can I help with? How can I help? I’d love to help!”

Logan kept his gaze firmly on Virgil until he began to squirm with discomfort. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbled, sighing and flicking his wrist dismissively. Logan nodded and turned to face Patton.

“Anxiety, as one might guess, suffers from anxiety attacks as well as the occasional panic attack.” Patton’s eyes saddened and he glanced down at Virgil as Logan continued. “I have been making an effort to ground him and make the situations less traumatic and time consuming. However…” At his pause, Patton looked up at him. His brows were furrowed and his lips twisted in frustration. “I have found that these attacks leave Virgil emotionally unstable and or drained. Emotions are--clearly--not my division. Perhaps it would be beneficial if you, Thomas’ emotional center, offer the assuagement and reassurances I am incapable of after I mollify his harrowing mental state.”

Patton blinked.

Virgil looked at him blandly. “Speak English, Science Guy.”

“I _am_.” At Virgil’s blank expression and Patton’s obvious confusion, Logan sighed in exasperation. “After I calm him from a panic attack, would you be able to comfort him?”

“Oh!” Patton said. “Of _course_ I can!” He smiled kindly at Virgil as he approached slowly and sat next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed but far enough away that there was no pressure. “I’m here for you, kiddo.” He held up the plate of cookies. “Sweets for you sweeties?”

Logan groaned, but Virgil snorted and took one, an amused glint in his eye at Logan’s irritation.

“Well, seeing as my current endeavor has be accomplished, I leave Virgil to you, Patton,” Logan said. “Inform me if you have need of me.”

As Logan sunk out, Patton waved excitedly. “Bye bye, Logan!” He glanced at the quiet young man at his side who sat silently nibbling on his cookie. “How ya feelin’, buddy?”

Virgil shrugged. “Dunno. Don’t really feel much of anything.”

“That’s okay,” Patton said reassuringly. “That happens sometimes. I know I get overwhelmed and confused _all_ the time.” He smiled. “It’ll get better.”

Virgil looked at him in an odd expression of bemusement and bewilderment. “You...really want to help me?” Even though it seemed rhetorical, Patton answered anyway.

“Of course, pal. What else is family for?”

“...” Virgil looked down at his cookie silently for a minute, before shyly scooching closer to Patton and resting his head on the patriarch’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dad.”

Patton teared up and smiled brightly, wrapping an arm around Virgil’s shoulders to hold him close. He would make sure this would become a regular occurrence. The dark strange child shouldn’t have to feel sad alone.


	3. Last to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's Roman's turn.

Roman was the last to know. And of course, he was clueless until it interfered with him directly.

He and Logan were brainstorming, working out a plan for Thomas’ next video, when Patton came down the stairs.

“Logan?”

Logan looked up, quickly analyzing the other side. He had apparently read Patton’s concerned expression as if he’d spoken aloud, because Logan simply nodded at him dutifully before giving a prim “Pardon me,” to Princey and sinking out.

Roman watched in utter confusion and frustration. What was that about? What just happened? What did it mean? What was so important that Logan would abandon him in the middle of such an important activity?

Patton’s movement caught Roman’s attention, his usually bright expression drawn and serious as he hopped down the stairs and entered the kitchen. Roman got up and followed him curiously.

“Soooo...Patton…” he hummed.

“Yeah, Roman?” Patton asked, tossing a sweet smile over his shoulder as he got out what appeared to be baking ingredients.

“What was that about?” he questioned.

“What do you mean, champ?” Patton asked innocently, measuring sugar, brown sugar, flour, salt, and baking soda and mixing them in a bowl. 

“That… _thing_ with Logan. What is going on?” Roman huffed. “We were in the middle of some very important planning! So it must have been something significantly urgent! I must know!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Patton said, maneuvering around him to get to the fridge, grabbing a stick of butter and two eggs. “It might be _butter_ for you if you just wait,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Gotta learn to be patient, you know?”

“This is so...exasperating!” Roman groaned, flopping into a chair at the table dramatically.

“ _Eggs_ -asperating?” Patton said, cracking the eggs in his hand over the bowl.

Roman held back an undignified snort and looked at Patton flatly. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“Aw!” Patton cooed, prancing over to hug the prince. “That’s so nice, Roman! Thank you!” Roman patted his back until the fatherly figure loosened his grip to pull back and smile. “Wanna help me bake?”

Roman frowned. “That sounds like messy, peasant work.”

“It’s family fun!” Patton insisted. “Come on! You can even lick the spoon!” Roman got up with a put-upon sigh as Patton bounced back over to the bowl, offering Roman a wooden spoon before digging through the cupboards to find a baking sheet. “Just stir it til it’s all combined together! Oh! And throw in those chocolate chips!” Patton added, tossing a bag on the counter.

“Where…?”

“I forgot ‘em! Heheh!”

Roman shook his head, pouring chocolate chips into the bowl and stirring. As he did, listening to Patton crash around thin metal and parchment paper while humming Winnie the Pooh under his breath, Roman’s thoughts began to wander. While they danced around what he had been working on with Logan, coming up with numerous other stellar ideas, along with fantasizing over handsome princes and clever princesses, and defeating monsters to save and capture the hearts of said royalty, his thoughts eventually ended up on his companions.

“Hey, where’s tall, dark, and gruesome?” Roman suddenly asked. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

Patton blinked and looked at him. If his smile seemed forced, Roman didn’t notice. “Oh, he’s probably still in his room. You know how he is. He’s still kinda shy, y’know?”

“ _Shy?_ ” Roman asked. “That’s an...interesting word choice. That I wouldn’t think to use to describe him.”

Patton shrugged. “The kiddo’s trying his best,” was all he said on the matter. “Let's make little dough balls and put them on the tray!” He and Roman got to work without another word passing between them. Until Patton ate a raw ball of dough.

“Patton!” Roman gasped. “That could make you ill, could it not?”

Patton giggled around the dough in his mouth. “Ony one won hur!” he said. At Roman’s confused look, he swallowed and hummed happily. “It’s dangerous to have a lot, but a little bit won’t do much harm! And it’s so good! Try it!” Roman reluctantly took a ball of dough and ate it. It was good. Patton clapped happily. “See? It’s wonderful! Now, let’s get these in the oven!” he said, opening up said oven and pushing the tray of dough balls inside.

“So,” Roman said. “About Logan--”

At that, Patton’s phone began singing. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket, his eyes rushing over the screen, his smile uncertain on his lips as if it wasn’t sure it wanted to be there. He typed something on it quickly and returned it to his pocket, his smile firmly in place.

“What was that, Roman?”

Roman frowned. “Something’s going on. Tell me.”

Patton looked at him oddly, his expression an odd mix of sympathy and feigned innocence. “Sorry, bucko, don't know what you're talking about!”

“Don't lie to me! Why won't you tell me?” the prince demanded.

“It’s not my place to tell,” Patton said sadly. “And I made a promise. I can’t break it just cuz you wanna know. Sorry, Roman.” The oven dinged, far too soon for cookies in reality to be done, but hey it was the mindscape and anything was possible here. Patton's smile snapped back into place as he pulled them out and quickly plated half of them. “Catch you later, pal! Help yourself to the other cookies! Thanks for the help! We should do it again sometime! Bye!” And with that he quickly sunk out.

Roman stood there, fuming with frustration. He began to pace, swinging his sword idly as he tried to puzzle it out. He needed to know what was going on.

The only one who wasn’t acting strange was Virgil, so maybe he’d know what’s going on.

In heading to Virgil’s room, he paused. As usual, the realm felt heavy and oppressive, but it seemed...worse somehow.

Roman didn’t see Virgil in the darkened version of the kitchen or livingroom, even on the stairs where he usually lounged. Roman thought he was likely in the bedroom and headed upstairs.

What he heard outside the door gave him pause.

There was higher pitched, gentle humming. It sounded like Patton. He went to see Virgil?

There was a soft, measured, even voice. That had to be Logan. What was he doing there, too?

There was also raspy, shaking, even tempod breathing. That could only be Virgil, but Roman had never heard him sound like that, like he was so short of breath, like he had been strangled or suffocated and had yet to recover.

He let curiosity outweigh his pride, and he very quietly opened the door a touch, just enough to peek inside. His nose caught the scent of fresh cookies overtoning the usual scent of mildew and sweet coffee and fresh rain that was Anxiety’s room. And what he saw...he didn’t know what to think about it.

Virgil sat on his bed, even paler than usual, but with red splotches around his eyes and his lip cracked and bloody. He was curled up and his eyes looked down and were only half-focused. Patton sat next to him, holding the darker-clothed boy in a one-armed hug and cooing in his ear, balancing the plate of fresh cookies on his knees. Logan kneeled on Virgil’s other side and was, surprisingly, holding Virgil’s hand. He also seemed to be muttering, probably using really big, useless, technical terms for whatever was going on.

Roman silently shut the door without disturbing the others. He saw enough to recognize something was wrong with Virgil. But, as always, he was the ego, and his ego nagged at him. They were all keeping this from him. They didn’t want him to know, for whatever reason. Roman was certain he could be of great help, he was the heroic prince after all, used to rescuing those in distress. But they didn’t want his help.

Virgil didn’t want his help.

Roman did the one thing the others wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , do.

He walked away.


	4. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman spirals after finding himself unnecessary.

Roman was no stranger to nightmares. Dreams and nightmares were only a few steps apart, after all, as fluid as comedy and tragedy, or sexuality. However, despite being so imaginative and creative, he’d never felt one so...horrendous, terrifying, disturbing, unnerving.

Real.

It felt too _real_.

Roman sat up in his bed and shivered, as if his body were trying to physically shake off the remnants of the nightmare. It was already starting to fall hazy in his mind, but the itching, oppressive feeling of “not good” refused to diminish and dissipate. It stubbornly stuck with the prince like a heavy morning fog in a marshy forest. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it and got up. 

Looking in the mirror, he frowned darkly. And the expression made him look even more like Virgil than the bed-hair and eyeshadow that had appeared in his sleep. He quickly grabbed some concealer and dabbed it over the shadows under his eyes. Virgil might pull off the tired, doom-and-gloom look, but that was not a look befitting someone of his regal stature. His face needed to be flawless.

Once he was certain his skin was perfection, he plastered a grin on his cheeks and went to get breakfast.

The other Sides would be none the wiser, and he could leave them to helping Anxiety.

~

Virgil was the first to notice. Which Virgil thought was strange, considering how caring and attentive Patton was and how detail oriented Logan was. But at the same time, it made sense. It _was_ his area, after all.

It was a slow progression, but Roman came out for breakfast and was certainly...off. He didn’t seem as perky and happy, and he was jumpy and on-edge. He wasn’t spouting ideas or monologuing his adventures, at least, not without prompting from Patton. And it continued like that for days. 

After a few days, Anxiety noticed the darkness under the prince’s eyes, barely peeking through the makeup that was carefully applied there, clearly to conceal it. And he felt frustrated. And he had a bad feeling maybe he was making it worse with his suspicious glaring as Roman walked past him, yawning more frequently than he had in a long time. And with Thomas taking it a bit easy with his videos lately, it wasn’t that he was overworked.

Virgil finally came to the conclusion that he had to do something about it, because clearly the others were too stuck in their own little worlds to notice Roman falling apart, only yanked out when Virgil desperately needed them, and Roman was going to his own lengths to keep them in the dark. And he knew from personal experience that that was Not Good™. Roman would run himself into the ground if no one stopped him. He was too prideful to ask for help, especially if the issue was particularly personal(ironically, seeing as they were all technically the same person).

Virgil paced his room, Nightmare Revisited playing as background noise. He forced himself to breathe deeply and evenly, as Logan would insist he do to puzzle out a situation. He ran his hands through his hair like Patton sometimes would to try and keep himself at ease. 

Okay, start with what he knew. Roman wasn’t doing well. Eyeshadow indicated he was anxious. Yawning indicated he was breathing unevenly and/or very tired. But consistently yawning throughout the day, that wasn’t just from waking up; so, possibly, he was having trouble sleeping. Not enough information to say why, though.

Well, it was a start. So, what to do about it?

He could confront Roman. The idea terrified him (confrontation, too much pressure, please no) but when he was at his most anxious, Logan had confronted him, and then Patton had insisted on following suit. And what other option was there, really? But he had to do it alone, somewhere they wouldn’t be interrupted. It would take pressure off of both of them, taking away the likelihood of the other two interrupting and finding out. That pretty much narrowed it down to his and Princey’s rooms. So he’d probably have to corner the royal in his own territory. That might make it harder for Anxiety, but maybe it’d put Roman more at ease, which was probably for the best. But how would he handle the situation?

He couldn’t plan for how Roman would react, not like Logan and Roman himself could; Virgil’s nervous brain only came up with the most horrible what-ifs and worst case scenarios. So, he’d have to try to trust himself and think on his feet.

Oh, this was going to go _so_ friggin well…

~

Roman paced in his room, trying unsuccessfully to think straight(Ha! When had that ever worked? (Rainbows~)). He pulled at his disastrously messy hair and snarled through heaved breaths at his darkened reflection. It had been getting worse. He could never remember his nightmares, but he knew they prodded his tender ego, taking advantage of the slip of catching the other two practically cuddling Virgil, at the surprising feeling of being unwanted. The nightmares poked at his insecurities, shoving his incompetence in his no-longer-perfect face. He began to worry that the others would deny him, reject him, even while the usually loudest part of him told him rather quietly that they would never be able to abandon someone so fabulous and powerful and useful, and if they did, why would he need them anyway? His internal struggle made it hard to sleep, and his creativity dulled and darkened, imagining monsters he couldn’t slay and audiences he couldn’t please.

It made it worse that lately, he felt Virgil staring at his back, watching him. He actually caught him glaring a few times. When he’d forced a coy smirk, Anxiety’s eyes had only narrowed in what what Roman’s tired mind identified as disdain. 

Roman had become the outsider. If this was how Virgil had felt, no wonder he was so angsty. It was miserable.

That thought echoed hollowly in his head and he blinked rapidly, suddenly dizzy. He sat down on the edge of his bed. He heard strange, harsh whooshing sounds in his ears, and his vision became dark and blurred at the edges. After who knows how long (seconds? minutes? hours?), he thought he heard something else, muffled. He thought he saw a blur, a shadow, move in front of him.

Slowly, the sound of soft, deliberate counting began to filter through his ears, and he realized the loud sound in his ears had been his own breathing. It was shaky and jarred, but he tried to match it to the count of the numbers he heard. 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. As his breathing returned to some semblance of regularity, he turned to look up, but his room was too bright for his sore head to handle.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the voice that had been counting said in a soft, gravelly tone, quiet enough to not aggravate his pounding skull. “You don’t have to look. Just breathe for a sec.” It paused. “Can I touch you? I mean, is that okay?” When Roman hesitantly nodded, he felt shaky hands rest on him lightly, one on his shoulder, one tapping his hand in time with his breathing, slowing his pulse to match. Roman heaved a sigh. “Easy...you good?”

Roman nodded, slowly raising his eyes to meet Virgil’s. Oh crap.

“What are you doing here?” Roman asked, his usually haughty tone coming out more like a whiny child. Virgil tensed against the obvious urge to roll his eyes.

“You’ve been acting weird lately. Or, weird _er_.” Virgil smirked teasingly before looking at him seriously again. “I was gonna try to talk to you, but…” He looked away, as if trying to ignore the situation. Roman sighed.

“You found me a hot mess.”

“That’s one way to put it, I guess,” Virgil mumbled. “What’s up with you lately? You’re...uh...you seem tired. And I can tell you’re...anxious.”

Roman groaned, dropping his head into the hand Virgil wasn’t mindlessly drumming on. “It’s ridiculous.”

“No,” Virgil said firmly. “It’s...it’s not,” he said, with less certainty. He took a deep breath. What would Patton say? “How you feel, it’s...not always good, but it’s not ridiculous. Maybe I could...uh...try to help?” Roman looked at him oddly and he felt his gut go cold. “I mean, I’m not, uh, as helpful as the...the others, but I’ve got...uh...experience? Dealing with...that.” He fidgeted. “I mean, it’s probably better to talk to, like, Patton or Logan, but you seemed to be hiding it from them so ifyoudon’twantthemtoknowyoucantellme,” he rushed out the last bit in a nervous breath, already feeling twitchy from the vibes of the room and his own built up anxiety.

Roman frowned, but reluctantly, with a flowery gesture, urged Virgil to sit next to him on the bed. He quickly took his hands off of Roman and sat next to him, careful not to be too close, and sitting on the edge of the soft mattress, as Roman himself decided to flop backwards, irritably blowing his hair out of his face.

“I’m having nightmares.” Virgil watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue. “They wake me up at odd hours, and I often times can’t fall back asleep. I can’t remember them, but I remember how they feel. They emphasise my inadequacy.”

“Wait,” Virgil interrupted. “Your _what?_ Since when do you think you’re anything but magnificent?”

“Since I saw the others coddling you,” Roman said.

Virgil froze and paled, eyes wide. “You--you what?”

Roman seemed to hear the shake in Anxiety’s voice and sat up quickly. “It’s alright. You were...unstable, I think. Patton was holding you and giving you cookies we’d made, and Logan was holding your hand and whispering at you.” Virgil gulped. “There’s nothing wrong with it, Virgil. It’s fine. I just…” The prince looked away and huffed. “I didn’t know it happened to you. Which is horrible, I’m the hero, the prince, the knight! I should have known, I should have _saved_ you.” He shook his head. “But...not only did I _not_ notice, the others _did_. Or you told them. And...I was the only one out of the loop.” He smiled self-deprecatingly to himself. “You didn’t want my help, or need it.”

They were silent for a while, then Virgil cleared his throat. “That--” he covered his mouth at the grumbling, distorted sound to his voice. Roman frowned worriedly. Virgil took a deep breath, his voice quiet. “That’s not true,” he said. “I was...afraid. I thought...you’d mock me.”

Roman looked at him, shocked. “Why would I do that?”

Virgil quirked a brow at him and his voice dropped flatly. “Really? Do you want a list of all the times you’ve called my fears silly, stupid, ridiculous, exaggerated, or pathetic over the years? And I think I remember Logan telling me you were reluctant to drag me out of my room?”

Roman blinked. “A-alright, that’s...fair, I suppose,” he grumbled, flushing with embarrassment.

Virgil smirked victoriously before looking down at his hands thoughtfully. “If the issue is you wanting to help...talk to Logan.” Roman perked up, looking at Virgil, who was pink in his ears and stalwartly avoiding the prince’s eyes. “He’s kind of...in charge of the whole...thing. He told Patton what to do after he found us. He can help you figure out how to handle me without making things worse.”

Roman eyed him hopefully. “Truly? You...want my help?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean...if you won't make fun of me...nothing to fear, right?” 

Roman nodded. “Of course! I will give you the utmost care! My bedside manner shall be impeccable!”

The darker boy flushed more and tugged at his sleeves. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, you good now?”

The prince smiled, true and genuine. “Yes. Thank you for what you did before. Is that what you go through?” At Virgil’s reluctant nod, Roman also nodded determinedly. “Then I will certainly help you from here on. That was a dreadful experience, and I hope not to repeat it. I would like to ease that for you as well.”

“Thanks.” Virgil smiled nervously and saluted on his seemingly hasty retreat.

Roman decided it was time to visit Logan.


	5. Let's Come Together and Create a Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman asks for guidance, of course a teacher and a father do their best to provide it.

Logan glanced up as a shadow blocked the light allowing him to read his book. “Not now, Roman. I’m busy.”

“I need you to help me figure out how to help Virgil.”

Logan took a deep breath, pinching his nose. “How did you find out? Nevermind, it’s not important. Does he know that you know?”

“Yes.”

Logan sighed. “Fine,” he said, closing his book with dutiful reluctance. “Sit.” Roman pouted at being ordered around, but sat down. “Have you considered how you would assist Virgil in a distressed state?”

“I’ve tried, yes,” he said. “But I’m not quite sure what you’re doing, and Virgil told me to talk to you about it.”

Logan raised his brow. “He...actually...told you to talk to me about this?”

“Yes.”

“And you actually listened?”

“Jeez, yes!” Roman snapped. “I am not so self-absorbed as to not help someone in need! And I am not so well-versed in this area than you are!”

“That is...accurate,” Logan said, fixing his spectacles. “Then--”

“Hey! What’s going on in here?”

Roman groaned irritably, but Logan looked at the newcomer, alert. “Ah, Patton. Excellent timing. We were about to discuss how we can better manage Virgil’s anxiety.”

“Oh! This sounds like a heavy discussion! Let me grab some snacks!” he said, rushing through the kitchen, grabbing crackers and three cups of water.

Logan looked at Roman. “How much do you know, exactly?”

Roman sighed and flopped onto the other couch. “I know that Virgil has these...things where he gets really upset and distressed and scared and can’t breathe and...yeah. And I know you two help him through it.”

Logan nodded. “Panic attacks. It’s a sudden, sometimes even unprovoked, episode of high-intensity fear, often to a paralyzing degree, causing adverse physical reactions, including vertigo, heart palpitations, and shortness of breath.”

“Yeah, it’s real scary,” Patton said, sitting next to Roman and putting the cups and snacks on the table.

“I want to help,” Roman said. 

“Do you have any ideas?” Logan asked.

“Whaaaats going on?” 

The group turned, Virgil looking at them through the stairway rails.

“We were just discussing how to better assist you,” Langan answered.

Virgil flushed in embarrassment and avoided Roman’s eyes. “Okay, yeah, I’m out, later,” he said quickly, saluting and dropping out of the room.

“Wait!” Roman called a moment too late. He frowned. “Shouldn’t he be here for this? This is about him, after all.”

“That is true,” Logan said. “Usually, it would be better to have his input on a matter directly involving him and his emotional battleground. However, this situation is a sensitive matter, and he finds it a stressful and embarrassing subject. That, alongside yours and his tendencies to argue with, and, even good-naturedly, antagonize each other, that might trigger a more powerful emotional reaction and cause what we are trying to avoid, and without having a logical plan, you may just make it worse, particularly if you had caused the distress in the first place.”

Roman frowned and looked down. Patton rested a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s for the best. We don’t want to upset him, right?” When Roman nodded, Patton squeezed his shoulder. “And this way, there’s no pressure on anyone! We find out what works best so he won’t be so scared later, and you’ll be able to feel what’s the right thing to do.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Roman grumbled, sitting back down, Patton following. “But it just feels more...right to have him here. We are discussing him, and who knows him better than himself?”

“In our own ways, all of us can relate to him!” Patton said. When the other two gave him confused stares, he giggled. “Gosh, I’m surprised you guys never noticed! We all kinda overlap!” He smiled brightly and fixed his hoodie and sat up straighter, looking more like Logan. “See, Virgil’s like Logan because he’s thoughtful. He thinks about a lot of things, and a lot of it comes from reasonable, rational fear, or memory of a past experience! And he’s so clever, he knows when something’s wrong with Thomas and which of us to turn to to fix it!” Logan fixed his frames on his face, flushing. Patton turned to Roman. “He’s like Roman because he thinks of so many scenarios. It’s so creative! He can think through anything that could possibly happen! And it may not always be...good or happy, but it is imagination!” Roman’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “And he’s like me cuz we’re both, y’know, emotional! He feels a lot, the poor boy, and it’s really overwhelming for him sometimes. But that’s just emotions for ya!” 

After a moment of silence, Roman spoke. “That was...impressive, Patton.” 

“Yes, that was quite intuitive,” Logan said in awe and frustration. “I’m concerned that I’d never made note of that before…”

The father figure preened at the compliments he was given. “But didn’t you?” Patton asked. “You even said, even if you left you were never gone!”

“Yes, but I had never thought of it in such a...relative manner. That was...very good, Patton.”

“Yay!” Patton exclaimed happily.

“Well,” Roman pressed, “now that we have that information, what do we do with it?”

“Yes…” Logan hummed, drumming his fingers together thoughtfully. “Well, Patton and I have been utilizing our own functions to assist him. When he begins to panic, I remind him how to breathe, and then depending on the triggering situation, I ground him or rationalize the situation. Patton then helps him sort through his lingering emotions after the fact.”

Roman looked down, thinking. “Creativity might just draw him back, couldn’t it? Him thinking of all the things that could go wrong, again?”

“Well, you’re more than just Creativity, Roman,” Patton said, squeezing his shoulder.

“Morality is right,” Logan said. “As he is both emotions and morals, you are more than the creative processes. ...Oh!” He clapped his hands together, his lips an O of epiphany. “Of course! You are also Thomas’ self confidence. Perhaps your function could be to boost Anxiety’s self confidence as a means of stabilization.” Logan grinned. “We already know that Virgil values your opinion of him. Even when Patton, Thomas and I accepted him and requested he return, he was still reluctant until he garnered your verbal acceptance. Logically, you expressing his uses and strengths could bring him to a better mental emotional balance.”

Roman smiled brightly, though there was still a sharp worried edge to it. “And truly, you think this will work?”

“I think it sounds great!” Patton said, wrapping Roman in a one-armed hug. “And hey, if it doesn’t work, we can figure something else out.”

Roman nodded. “So...um...how will I know when to...show up?”

“That is a fair concern,” Logan said. “I can text Patton because Virgil sees me as reasonable and calculated. But if Patton were to divert his attentions, Anxiety might begin to think himself less important, or a bother.”

“Plus, I like to spend as much time as I can with him,” Patton said with a sad smile. “He could use a good cuddle after something like that. And I don’t wanna leave him alone to come get you. And just calling you might upset him.”

Roman sighed in frustration. “And I thought the difficult part was over.” He tugged at his sash. “Perhaps I could just...follow Patton? And just wait outside the door?”

“Unacceptable,” Logan immediately dismissed. “You are an opposing sympathetic function. You are the most susceptible to anxiety of the three of us, and to spend an extended amount of time in a location that increases anxiety while you may already be anxious, to some extent, on how best you can assist Virgil, is less than unsatisfactory. It would negatively affect you, which would in turn negatively affect Virgil and Thomas, and the goal is to help them, not rile them.”

“Then what do you suggest, Brainiac Brian?” Roman snipped.

“I postulate that perhaps the best course of action would be to allow me to inform you of the best time to approach.” Before Roman could retort, his hackles rising, Logan pressed on, “Virgil’s emotional state after an attack is not always consistent. He may need more time with Morality on certain days, so it would be better for you to wait longer. In addition, I am the only one that could leave Virgil’s side, as Patton takes my place. I could give you an approximation of when it could be best for you to move to his side. There is a decent margin of error with this method, as emotions are Not My Area, but it seems the best solution for the time being.”

Roman still glared fiercely until Patton began rubbing and massaging his shoulder soothingly. He sighed forcefully, his tension dropping to mild irritation. “Fine...fine. I’ll just...wait.”

“It’ll work out, Roman,” Patton hummed, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder. “You and Logan can do anything, and I’m here to help! It’ll turn out good, I can just _feel_ it.”

Roman patted Patton’s knee as thanks and reached for his water. “I suppose we can only hope I won’t have to test this for some time.”

The others nodded in agreement. Too bad Virgil’s nerves hadn’t been in on the agreement.

“Fuck.”


	6. Let's Give It a Try

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all help Virgil deal with a more minor anxiety attack.

He wasn’t sure what set him off. Maybe it was the sleepless night he’d had, looking at all the fanart and cosplays of Thomas and the Sides on tumblr and Twitter and feeling undeserving of the admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything that hadn’t involved candy in...days, and even that wasn’t a lot of food eaten. Maybe he was dehydrated, running out of water and too anxious to think to refill it on his whim or to leave his room to go to the kitchen to manually refill it. Maybe it was seeing the other three talking, and being informed that they were talking about him. Maybe it was that, when he returned to his realm, there was another bouquet outside his door, and he still had no idea who put them there.

Or maybe it was just about time it would happen.

He’d dropped the flowers clumsily on his bedside table and crawled under his covers, hiding from what little light was in his room, trying to fight off the encroaching fear and uncertainty. His breath tried to come out in shallow huffs, but he tried to force it to be deep and even. He didn’t quite succeed, but he didn’t fully fail either, and the attack’s onset was slowed, just a little.

What would he do? Usually Logan or Patton would want him to tell them, but they were busy, and he knew they were busy. This wasn’t as important, he’d handled himself before. He couldn’t interrupt, couldn’t bother them. Especially when they all seemed so serious in their discussion. And it was about him. Fuck, they were talking about him. No no no no no no no...

He was about succumb to his attack and resign himself to handling it on his own again, when his phone alerted in his pocket. He took a deep breath and reached for it. There was a text from Patton and one from Logan.

The one from Patton consisted of different colored hearts, and puppy emojis. Logan’s actually contained words.

[We have concluded with our discussion for the time being. You rarely leave your room without purpose. Did you need something?]

Anxiety blinked, taking a few forced breaths before clumsily thumbing a response.

[im not ok]

He hesitated to send it, but his finger hit send as it shook, and he curled around his phone, shaking.

“Virgil.”

He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but anxiety attacks make you jumpy, and he was inching closer and closer to a panic attack. He whipped around and sat up, throwing his blankets away. Logan watched him with a clinical eye, as was customary.

“Do you know what has caused this?” he asked, getting right to the point.

“I...I don’t…” He forced himself to take a breath. “I’m not..sure...it’s just...a lot.”

Logan nodded and approached. “May I sit with you?” At Virgil’s nod, he carefully sat himself next to Virgil. His eyes caught on the flowers on the table and gestured to them. “Would you like information on these?” Virgil glanced at them, then nodded slowly. Data was a good start at calming down, and it had been a habit to often start with something idle and unimportant, like the mysterious flowers Virgil kept finding at his door. Logan picked up the tied bundle of white and purple bell-shaped flowers. “Calluna vulgaris, commonly known as heathers. In the language of flowers, purple often means solitude, beauty, and or admiration, and white means good luck and or protection. And of course, you know what this is,” Logan said, twirling the flower in the center.

It was an azalea. There was one in every bouquet he got. When Virgil first started getting bouquets, the azaleas were white, but now they were yellow. Logan theorized that it meant the sender was feeling more affectionate and familiar, as white is more civil and yellow gives more platonic affection to the message. Azaleas mean a lot of things. It could mean temperance, or passion, or gratitude, or “take care of yourself”. Virgil never admitted how much that meant to him.

Logan took Virgil’s thoughtful silence as his cue to start counting. It was quiet, unintrusive, just a delicate reminder that he needed to continue to breathe. After a few minutes of attempting to breathe in time, with moderate success, Virgil curled into himself. As he was about to apologize, Logan took his hand.

Logan still wasn’t well-versed in body language, but he had come to recognize that Virgil needed some form of reassurance when he began to pull back prior to physical contact being established. It often meant he was thinking negatively of himself and trying to pull away to cease being a burden, as opposed to when he pulled away once physical contact was established which, while it could mean the same thing, just as often meant he was overstimulated and needed to stand on his own. Logan wasn’t a huggy person like Patton was, but he was working on it. For now, he was able to hold Anxiety’s hand, sit pressed against his side or his back as a solid, reassuring weight of presence without a negative reaction from either of them. 

Virgil let out a breath as Logan squeezed his hand. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Logan nodded. “Could our discussion have added to your stress level?” Virgil tensed up, which was answer enough. “Would it reassure you to know that the discussion was taking place because Roman was adamant in wanting to assist you when you are troubled in this manner?”

Virgil looked at him and frowned. “He...did say that...I didn’t think he really...meant it.”

“He may make dramatic and...eugh...frivolous statements,” Logan said, “but that more often means exaggeration, not outright falsehoods.” He squeezed Virgil’s hand. “He may not be the most honest of us, but he is a part of Thomas who is a very honest person. And while self-centered and overdramatic, he is not malicious by intent. If he said he wanted to help you, I would presume that, at least in that moment, he truly meant it and wished to help you.” Virgil gulped and paled. Logan wasn’t sure his explanation was helping or hurting, or just changing his negative trajectory. “Would you, perhaps, prefer I read?”

“Yeah,” Virgil coughed out. “Yeah, that would be...yeah.”

Logan nodded, carefully moving closer so his shoulder pressed against Virgil’s, and conjured the astronomy book he’d been reading recently. He singlehandedly found his place and began reading aloud.

Having something interesting but also somehow mindless lulling at the back of his head, keeping him in the moment even as he drifted in his own head, was a comforting tether. It also kept him from thinking about what was making him so anxious and making things worse. And Virgil never said it out loud, but he found Logan’s voice the most soothing of the Sides. He wasn’t loud and overpowering like Roman, and wasn’t too perky or too gentle like Patton could be. The tone of his voice was soft while his pronunciation was sharp and precise. When Virgil had a migraine, Logan kept his voice at a low volume, and rose his voice some when Virgil got lost in his own thoughts. He never let go of Virgil’s hand, and when his breathing became uneven, Logan didn’t stop reading, but tapped his fingers like a metronome on the back of Virgil’s hand.

After a while, Logan got to a stopping point and examined Virgil. “Should I call for Morality at this point?” he asked. Virgil shrugged. When Logan was sure that was all the answer he was going to get, he texted Patton. Less than a minute later, Patton showed up with a bowl of baked apple slices.

“Hey, kiddo!” he said in his usual cheery fashion, moving to sit on his other side. “How are you feelin, buddy?” Virgil shrugged, and Patton nodded understandingly and pressed his lips to Virgil’s forehead. “It’s okay. I brought you a snack. Don’t want cha feelin sick over all them sweets,” he said, laying the bowl in front of Virgil.

“Thanks,” Virgil hummed, reluctantly taking an apple slice, if just to see Patton light up like he did whenever Virgil ate in front of him.

As Virgil ate and contemplated, Patton quietly (and surprisingly subtley) conjured a vase of water on the bedside table. Logan put the flowers in the vase without shifting against Virgil’s side. Patton smiled at Logan affectionately, before looking down at the now half-empty bowl.

“Great job, Virgil,” Patton said, scooching up closer to Virgil’s side and wrapping one arm around his shoulders. He coyly dropped a penny in the boy’s lap. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan shook his head, but Virgil’s lip quirked before falling flat. “I just...I’m kinda just...overwhelmed. Maybe I was just due for a breakdown.”

“That’s okay,” Patton said, rubbing Virgil’s arm soothingly. “That happens sometimes. You can’t always be one hundred percent one hundred percent of the time, y’know?” Virgil nodded and Patton planted a kiss on his temple. “You’ll be alright, pal.” He gasped. “Oh! I know what’ll cheer you up!” And suddenly, there was a fluffy grey puppy in front of them. It yipped at them, wagging its fluffy butt.

“What.”

“I can’t...even,” Logan grumbled.

“I can conjure puppies, too!” Patton said joyfully, another puppy appearing in his arms as he hugged it happily.

Logan set his book aside and held his free hand out for the dog in front of them to smell and familiarize with his scent. It sniffed his hand curiously but barked at him, and Logan pulled back with a frown.

“Guess you’re _barking_ up the wrong tree, Logan!” Patton said, and Logan glared. Virgil snorted and reached out to the dog with significantly more success as it let him pet it, craning its neck to try to lick his hand. “Maybe you just need a different friend!” Another puppy appeared in front of them and just stared at Logan expectantly. Logan reluctantly repeated his action, and this dog tilted its head into his hand. Virgil was smart and kind enough not to point out that Logan was smiling. Patton was not. “I’m so happy to see you happy, Logan!”

Logan blushed and cleared his throat, his smile immediately suppressed. “Of course. Petting an animal, particularly a dog, releases so-called happy hormones like oxytocin and--”

“Easy, Einstein,” Virgil said with a soft chuckle, letting his dog sit in his lap. “Let things just exist for a little bit. Not everything has to be reasoned all the time. You’re allowed to feel, too.” Logan frowned, looking at Virgil like he was dissecting him with his eyes. It made Virgil uncomfortable. “What?”

“This is a discussion for another day,” Logan said, squeezing Virgil’s hand before letting go and getting up. “I will leave you two to it. Should I send Roman?” 

Virgil tensed but Patton nodded. “Give us a few minutes? Oh, and you can take the puppy!” he said cheerily. Logan nodded, gingerly picked up the small dog, and sunk out. Patton rubbed Virgil’s arm soothingly. “What’s wrong, bud?”

“It’s just...Roman really wants to help?” he asked.

“Of course he does!” Patton said. “He was very upset until we figured something out, he wanted to help so much! I’m so proud of both of you kiddos.” He squeezed Virgil closer in his one-armed hug. “I know it’s new and can be kinda scary, but Logan and me helping you was new and scary once too. We just gotta figure out what works best for you two. But I think we’ve got it. Just give him a chance? He’s really nervous, too.”

Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.” He pet the dog in his lap carefully, as it lazily licked at him.

“Would you like to cuddle for a bit?” Patton asked. “I bet the puppies wouldn’t mind.”

Virgil smiled, and it wasn’t entirely forced. “Just for a little. I don’t...want Roman to see me like that.”

“Why not?” Patton asked, pressing closer and laying back, gently pulling Virgil to lay back too. They curled into their usual position, Virgil’s head over Patton’s heart, listening to the steady beats and breathing beneath his ear and feeling the rumble of his voice while Patton ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair. The puppies curled up between their legs. “You don’t have to hide this from him, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have feelings, and you’re allowed to want to have a cuddle buddy, especially when you aren’t feeling like such a hot topic!”

Virgil shook his head, inadvertently nuzzling Patton’s chest. “I guess...it’s just kinda...embarrassing. You know?”

Patton shook his head, and Virgil felt it in the shift of his breath over his hair. “Not really. Affection’s kind of my thing. Mine and Roman’s, actually. And neither of us are really ashamed of it. And I don’t think you should be either, as long as you don’t force it on anyone. And I’m always happy to snuggle!” Patton nuzzled the top of Virgil’s head and Virgil huffed.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he mumbled.

“Well, I’m a dad, it’s my job to embarrass my kids!” Patton said stubbornly, pulling Virgil closer. Virgil chuckled but said nothing and they lapsed into comfortable silence. Virgil had almost drifted off, relaxed from Patton’s affectionate ministrations on his scalp, when someone cleared their throat.

“Am I...uh...interrupting something?”

Virgil’s eyes shot open and he made to move away, but Patton held him in place. “Hey, Roman!” he said. “Nah, we were just being snuggle bugs! And look, puppies!” Roman forced a smile and reached to pet the puppies. They both leaned toward him, selfishly butting each other out of the way.

Virgil gulped nervously. “Uh…”

“I guess I should leave you kiddos to your thing,” Patton said, though he seemed reluctant to pry himself out from under Virgil. “I’ll make a special treat for you guys for later too! Know that you’re making your old man proud!” He ruffled both facets hair before waving and ducking out, leaving the puppies on Virgil’s legs.

“You’re the same age as us, Patton!” Roman called after him. He rolled his eyes. “Honestly…” He looked at Virgil, who was determinedly looking down at the dogs he was petting. “So...um...may I sit?” Virgil nodded and Roman sat on the edge of the bed, petting the dogs. “So...we thought...perhaps...it would be good if I boosted your confidence.”

Virgil raised his brow and glanced at Roman. “You? Raise _my_ confidence? You may not hate my guts anymore, but we aren’t exactly best friends. Plus that’s a lot of heavy lifting. Not sure you can handle it.”

Roman scoffed. “I will have you know I am very strong in every sense of the word! I will be able to raise your confidence if it’s the last thing I do!”

“ _Don’t_ say that,” Virgil grumbled.

Roman sighed. “Alright. How to start?” Roman pondered, tapping his chin. “What has bothered you so?”

Virgil groaned. “This is stupid.”

“Humor me. Please?” Roman’s puppy eyes were only outmatched by Patton’s, and Virgil was particularly weak to them.

“ _Fine_ ,” he hissed. “Just stop...looking at me like that.” He he sighed, trying to breathe the heat away from his pink cheeks. “I just got overwhelmed. You guys all talking about me was just...real stressful and...stuff.”

Roman nodded. “You know...we were discussing you because we care, right?” When Virgil remained quiet, he decided to continue. “I honestly admire your strength.”

Virgil’s brow furrowed. “My what?”

“Your strength. You’re very brave, Virgil.” Roman smiled. “If what you deal with is anything like what you guided me through, that is...distressing. And knowing that you deal with it so frequently, and only until recently you dealt with it on your own, that’s...an incredible feat. Miraculous, even. As saddening as it is, it is also very admirable.”

Virgil squirmed uncomfortably, his cheeks red. “Stop...I don’t...take compliments well…”

“Well, you deserve to hear it,” Roman said stubbornly. “And you should get used to it. You and Thomas both need to better recognize how outstanding you are!”

“Yeah, we stand out, all right.”

“You know what I meant,” Roman rolled his eyes and smirked. His grin widened as his eyes caught the vase on the table. “But truly, you should know you are more brave than even I.”

Virgil made a sound that seemed like choking. “Who are you and what have you done with Roman?”

Roman picked up one of the puppies and tossed it at Virgil’s chest. He caught it, but stumbled into stunned silence. “I am only being truthful. I’m not saying I’m not brave. I’m the adventurous, daring, creative, gorgeous prince. It would be practically blasphemy to say I am not brave!” He ignored Virgil’s deadpan look and continued. “However, my fear is often minimal. I am the drive to make, discover, love. To dive into everything head first. I have little room for fear. But you...you _are_ fear. It is a significant part of your existence. It holds you back, but you force yourself through it regardless. And _that_ is unmistakably brave.”

Virgil gulped and pet the puppy in his arms, trying to use his hair to hide the redness of his face. He felt warm everywhere and his heart was beating rapidly in his ears. It was terrifying, but it didn’t feel as threatening as it had before. It was almost...exhilarating. He wasn’t sure if he liked it, but he didn’t really hate it.

“Th--” Virgil’s voice squeaked and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Thanks.”

Roman nodded. “I only spoke the truth, no thanks needed. Though it is certainly appreciated.”

Virgil shook his head. Roman’s flamboyant attitude made it harder to be embarrassed with himself. “That is kind of a lot for me to deal with. I think I’m good.”

“Ah. Right.” Roman stood. He had his usual air of magnificence, but Virgil could see him shifting his weight between his feet. “I suppose I should leave you be? You certainly have good company,” he said, nodding at the dogs, who yipped.

“Yeah, I guess,” Virgil said, then nervously added, “But, uh, I mean, you don’t...have to go. If you don’t want to, I mean. If you want to that’s totally fine, but--”

“Virgil,” Roman chuckled. “Breathe? You’re talking as fast as Logan.”

Virgil took a deep breath before saying, slowly and deliberately, “You can stay, if you want to. We could maybe watch Nightmare Before Christmas, if you’d want to.”

Roman smiled brightly. “That sounds excellent!” 

As Virgil got his laptop and set up the movie, Roman sat next to him. He, like Patton, seemed unaware of the idea of personal space, his shoulder brushing close to Virgil’s and their legs pressing together at some points. Virgil pretended not to mind, for the sake of them both seeing the movie. He set the laptop on both of their laps and let the dogs readjust. It was surprisingly fun to watch the movie with just Roman. Roman would, rather annoyingly, sing every song, but Virgil had the whole script memorized too, and would sometimes recite lines aloud, just to rub it in Roman’s face.

Virgil didn’t notice how Roman’s eyes occasionally drifted to Virgil’s unusually relaxed expressions, or to his bedside table blossoms.


	7. Surface Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's so short, I'm trying to force myself back in and this chapter was givin me issues so I kinda just threw it together. It's mostly to segue into what else I have planned. I hope you like it anyway. :)

On the outside, things were going smoothly. Virgil was starting to open up to the others, Logan was getting better with physical contact, Patton was sharing his feelings and getting ALL of the cuddles, and Roman was trying his best to befriend Virgil. The other three were all helping with the Anxiety Attacks, and it was great.

On the inside, things were less okay.

“Patton, can I talk to you?”

The other three looked up at the stairs where Virgil stood, eyes fixed on his target.

“Sure thing, sport,” Patton said, standing from his seat.

“Is something wrong, Virgil?” Logan asked.

“If anything is bothering you--” Roman began, but stopped when Virgil waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s no big deal, just wanna hang with Pat for a bit,” he said.

Patton smiled brightly. “Oo a father-son day!”

Virgil’s lip twitched. He didn’t correct Patton like Thomas did. He found Patton’s affection comforting, if undeserved, and his yearning to treat Virgil like his own child was funny and if it made him feel better, why not? “Yeah, sure. My room?”

“Right behind ya, kiddo!” he said happily, sinking out as Virgil did the same, saluting the others.

The moment they appeared in Virgil’s room, he immediately began pacing. 

“Virge?” Patton asked, concerned and quickly attuned to Virgil’s mood. “You okay, kiddo?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, this is nothing,” he muttered, though he didn’t stop.

“Something’s bothering you,” Patton insisted. “Talk to me.”

Virgil stopped and huffed exasperatedly. “Right. Sorry. That’s why I asked you here.” He shook his head and folded his arms. “I’m worried.”

“Uh-oh,” Patton said. “What’s got you worried?”

“Logic and Princey,” he said. “That’s kinda why I wanted to talk to you, you’re good.” He paused. “You...are good, right?”

Patton smiled affectionately. His boy was so thoughtful and caring. “I’m doing great, Virgil. No need to worry about me right now.” He went and sat on Virgil’s bed and patted the spot next to him. “Tell your good ol’ dad what’s eatin’ ya.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, but sat down next to him. “Logan...thinks he can’t be...emotional.”

Patton hummed in agreement. “Yeah. It’s hard to convince him otherwise.”

“I don’t wanna approach him cuz...what if I screw up?” 

Patton wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “I really hate to put pressure on you, kiddo, but you might be the only one who _can_ get Logan to be okay with his own feelings.”

Virgil bit his lip. “How? Why?”

Patton smiled. “I like to think he and I are besties, but if I told him he was feeling something, he’d probably think I was pushing my feelings on him. And he and Roman are a little...feisty. They aren’t real good at listening to each other, even though they work real well together. But you two get along so well. You think more logically than me and Roman, even if you get a bit...imaginative. I think, probably, if you talk to him, he might just think it’s reasonable. Or at least, more reasonable than with us, heehee!”

Virgil looked down contemplatively. That did make sense, but that didn’t make it easier. “How am I supposed to bring it up?”

“Just talk to him!” Patton said. 

“Easier said than done,” Virgil grumbled.

Patton patted his shoulder. “You’ve got this, Virge. You’re great.”

Virgil shook his head and huffed. “Yeah, okay.”

Patton’s grip tightened. “I was not kidding, kiddo. I _will_ fight you.” His voice was gruff enough to be threatening, but “dad” enough to not be taken too seriously. Patton was trying to make him feel better. “You wanted to talk about Roman too, didn’t you?”

Virgil’s breath hitched and he forced himself to breathe. Patton let him, lightly tapping his finger on Virgil’s collar in time with his pulse. When Virgil could breathe, his cheeks were lightly dusted with the blood prickling underneath his skin. He cleared his throat. “Uh, just, uh...noticed he’s been...jumpy lately. And more compliment hungry than usual. I just...can you...uh...look after him?” Virgil fidgetted with his sleeves. “Roman’s still a bit much to deal with right...right now. On top of Logan and stuff.”

Patton smiled. “Of course, buddy. I’ve got your back!” he said, moving his hand to rub Virgil’s back. Virgil snorted.

“Okay...thanks.” He took a deep breath and looked at Patton. “You should...probably get out of here before you start rambling.”

Patton pouted, but stood. “Want me to send in Logan, or--”

“No,” Virgil said firmly. “I’ll deal with it when I can. Do you wanna just...uh...hang?”

Patton brightened, practically vibrating with joy. “Yes! Definitely! Of course! What should we do? We could watch a movie, we could color, we could tell stories--”

Virgil huffed softly and smiled. “That all sounds great, Patton.” He stood up. “Wanna make some popcorn with me?” Patton cooed happily as he eagerly grabbed Virgil’s hand. 

As they shifted to neutral ground and headed for the kitchen, Patton whispered warmly, “You’re doing so well, kiddo. I’m proud of you.” Virgil blushed and grumbled thanks. Patton pulled them to a stop. “I know you can handle this. With Logan and Roman. And I’m here for you, too.” His smile widened. “You’ve got this, buddy.”

Virgil blushed darker and took a deep breath. Yeah, maybe...maybe he did have this. It was worth a shot.


	8. You Have Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm sorry if this isn't great, I wrote this mostly when I was anxious myself. It's also kinda short. For me, anyway. But I hope you like it anyway! Lets move this Anxious train forward!

What the _fuck_ was he thinking? He must be out of his friggin mind to think he could actually have the courage for this, let alone convince someone else of something when he couldn’t even convince _himself_ of anything but being worthless.

But he had to calm down. If he was gonna do this, he couldn’t make it about him. This was about Logan. If he showed signs of stress, Logan would pick it up and divert the conversation towards him. And the last thing Virgil wanted to do right now was self-reflect.

That was a can of worms he could not manage right now, especially when the others needed him. When _Thomas_ needed him. Time to be selfless for once.

And hey, it was Logan, who saw him at his worst and didn’t think any less of him. It wasn’t like he was going to talk to Roman about--

Nope. Cut that train of thought off right there. Not going there.

He took a deep breath...and knocked on Logan’s door.

“Come in, Virgil.”

Virgil paused, but slowly opened the door, peeking in. Logan was sat at his desk, his nose buried in a book as usual. He didn’t even look up as he flicked his wrist, gesturing for Virgil to enter. “How did you know it was me?” he asked, closing the door behind him.

“Each of you have very different ways of approaching me. And my door. Roman and Patton often knock in musical patterns. You tend to hesitate. It’s distinct.” Logan placed a marker in his book and spun in his chair, looking at Virgil. “How may I assist you?”

“Uh, actually...” Virgil rubbed his arm nervously. “I wanted to...talk to you about...stuff.”

“‘Stuff’ is not particularly specific, Virgil,” Logan said, with the practiced patience of an experienced educator. “You will need to explicate further.”

Virgil growled softly, shifting from foot to foot. As endearing as Logan’s thick skull could be, it was also endlessly frustrating. Especially with something so uncomfortable to talk about. “I guess just...how are you feeling?”

Logan looked at him, more focussed and assessing. There was a full minute of silence, of Virgil’s skin itching like there was a soft brush of wind or feathers over it, quivery and uncomfortable. He was about to snap when Logan slowly repeated back, “How am _I feeling?_ ” 

Virgil flinched. Great job, dummy, you fucked up already. “...Yeah.”

Logan huffed. “Am I supposed to answer that question? Because I do not do _feelings_.”

Virgil scowled. “Logan--”

“If you want to talk about feelings--”

“Lo--”

“I advise you go to one of the others to--”

“LOGAN!!”

Logan blinked, apparently shocked at Virgil’s outburst. Virgil was _fuming_ and _no no no,_ this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but _fuck_ , he was _so angry._

“Logan, you are going to shut up and you are going to listen to me, got it?” Logan opened his mouth, but promptly snapped it shut. “I have seen you get frustrated, proud, amused, annoyed, and _angry as fuck_. Logan, those are _feelings_. Feeling them less or differently than the rest of us does _not_ make you an emotionless robot!” Virgil took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm. “I didn’t come here to yell at you,” he mumbled. “I just...”

Silence placed itself firmly between them. And it wasn’t their usual, comfortable silence either. It was decidedly tense, and in Virgil’s opinion, _scary_. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. He screwed it up, didn’t he? He should have waited, or not done it at all, or maybe he should have been more relaxed before, he should have kept his cool--

The soft sound of counting filtered through his head, and he gulped. But in line with the silent, undeservedly gentle command, he began breathing with it. He became more aware, aware that he was trembling like a leaf, that he had almost slumped forward, that his feet and knees had turned inward, that his fists were clenching his pants. He looked up at Logan anxiously, who looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“Have a seat, Virgil,” he said softly, nodding at his bed. Reluctantly, Virgil sat. Logan stood up, slowly, and approached Virgil like you would a skittish animal, with a caring caution. He also sat on the bed, but made sure to give Virgil ample space. “What brought this on?” he asked.

Virgil bowed his head. “I just...notice how you are about feelings...that...denial. And...” he cleared his throat, fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. “After all you’ve done for me--the counting and the talks and the grounding and the audiobooks and just everything--I...I wanted to do something for you. I thought...I could help.” He growled, running his hands through his hair and digging his nails into his scalp. “But I screwed it up. As usual.”

Logan took a deep breath, which startled Virgil a bit. Logan looked at firmly. “Virgil, you did absolutely nothing wrong.” When Virgil went to shake his head, Logan held up a hand. “You are jumping to the conclusion that I am angry or that you have failed. Allow me to speak and give you more information before you make such a decision of perception.” When Virgil nodded, Logan lowered his hand. “I am surprised that you would do this. And be so passionate about it as well.” He sighed. “I also took note, through your shouting, evidence. I will have to think this over. But I am not angry. I am startled and overwhelmed, but not angry.”

Virgil forced himself to breathe and sighed. “Sorry for...blowing up like that,” he mumbled. “Will you...um...think? About that?”

Logan nodded. “That _is_ my job, Virgil.”

Virgil smiled weakly and stood.

“No,” Logan demanded. “You are not at a reasonable stress level. Even if you prefer to not interact, I would prefer if you were still within my vicinity to you have access to me should you need it.”

Virgil waited until Logan went back to his desk to say, “If you wanted to hang out, you coulda just said so.”

Logan sighed and shook his head, but gave Virgil a small smile before returning to his work. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It was clear a small part of his focus was still directed at Virgil. Virgil laid back on his friend’s bed, forcing himself to relax. He was exhausted, and he didn’t even realize as he drifted off.

When he woke up to find himself cuddling up to Logan, he was almost embarrassed. Until Logan whined when he tried to pull away and held him tighter. He snickered quietly to himself and drifted in and out of hazy sleep before Logan actually woke up.

Virgil was sworn to secrecy the next morning, and he couldn’t stop grinning.


End file.
